


Remain – Joshler

by goodguymitch



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: M/M, Remain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 08:29:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11482536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodguymitch/pseuds/goodguymitch
Summary: Tyler Joseph was a loony guy. He was known as the kid who saw ghosts and got called crazy for it. What will he do when a random man shows up in his room?





	1. Chapter 1

Being the only child, I grew up to live alone. Be alone. I'm used to it. It doesn't bother me at all. I could be standing in the middle of the bustling city, watching people die and rush by without feeling like I'm even remotely connected to them. 

No, it's not the same as being alone. Being alone is more a state of physical being than it is a state of soul and emotion. But I'm surrounded by all these people who never seem to truly understand me and who seem like will never understand the fears and deepest thoughts that tug at my heart. 

My friends don't even listen. It's not that they don't care about me or truly try to help me, it's simply that feeling that they will never understand me, no matter how much I explain. It's that craving for love and connection beyond the surface level. Loneliness leads me to feel like I'm literally watching the world go by, not part of anything in particular. 

But the only people who understood me are not people. They're dead. These spirits are stuck in some sort of purgatory so that way the living can't see my them. 

Hell, my 'friends' even sent me to a mental asylum because of it.  

During that time, I never had the obsession of suicide, or at least not like this. But I know that each conversation with a psychiatrist, every morning at the time of his visit, made me want to hang myself, realizing that I would not be able to cut his throat. Even after several days, confinement the thoughts of the busy world grow faint, and all the poor prisoners can do is to sit and ponder over their hopeless fate.

It's okay. 

They don't know about me. 

I'm just different.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Self harm

Five years ago. 

'A hit and run accident that killed Joshua Dun is now under investigation. Police say the perpetrator may have been drunk, but unfortunately without any witnesses, the man/woman ran away. If you know anyone who-'

I turned off my television and shook my head. The only thing the news ever broadcasts about are sad and disappointing topics. I gave up on humanity. 

I gave up on everything. 

\--

I'm sitting here in the shower tub again. My mind goes to brutal things while I'm in here. I lean my head back till it's resting on the shower wall and I close my eyes. I suddenly feel a strong urge to hurt myself. I shook my head but the voices in my head told me yes. 

'Do it,'

'No one will care,'

'You live alone,'

'Who's going to save you now?'

My hands obediently grab my blade I used yesterday and lower it down to my right arm. All I need is a little bite; a little something to fill my hunger. I press the tip hard into my skin but it doesn't feel like it's even touching me. 

I put more pressure, I'm sure now that I'll be able to feel it but I can't. I see the famous crimson bead underneath the tip of the blade but I can't feel anything. 

Why isn't it working? 

Where's the rush? 

I need the rush.

I feel helpless now I don't know what to do with myself. I release the blade from my fingers and I hear the 'plink' it makes on the shower floor. Even though the shower water is falling on my face, I know I'm crying.

Without thinking, I grab my bag from outside the shower and reach in. I pick out my second tool of choice. My scalpel. I take the scalpel and in a quick motion, I stab the inside of my left wrist. The pain takes over me but I don't flinch at all. All I want is the rush.

I'm not worried about anything else. 

I then pull the scalpel up my arm. I pull it half way up then remove it. I watch as the blood oozes out. It doesn't seem real to me. Nothing feels real. The blood is coming out of me fast. Flowing madly down my arm and into the drain. I feel the rush, at last. I let out a shaky breath. 

I think this is the best feeling I've had since I was at Disney Land for my fifth birthday. 

I want more.

I need more.

I take the scalpel in my blood covered hand and stab my other arm. I do the exact same thing to my left arm to my right arm. 

Another surge of endorphins runs through me. Before I get time to really feel it I start seeing spots. What's happening? My eyes follow the spots and they turn red, I realize I'm looking at my arms. 

Even though the water is falling down on me my arms are still red. I can't see my pale peach skin, all I see is red. 

What have I done?

What's wrong with me? 

I feel a scream in the back of my throat. I try so hard to keep it in. I hold my breath for as long as I can, but finally I explode. I scream so hard that I'm sure my throat ripped. I pull my knees to my chest and I break down. My tears fall down to my bloody arms. I find it's getting harder to breath. It feels like someone's sitting on my chest. 

The bathroom door bangs open, and an unknown figure comes storming in. I live alone, who is this?

"Uhh, who are you??" I whispered.


	3. Chapter 3

I opened my eyes slowly. This suspicious man was in the middle of my bed room. He had pink hair that covered his eyes. His skin was pale, he had a no shirt on. Yep, I'm scared shitless. I reached for my phone.

"I'm calling the cops," I spat at him. He looked down. My phone didn't turn on when I pressed the lock button. "Fine, I'll leave and tell them myself!" I said. I tried to open my door but it couldn't unlock. 

Great! 

I have no contact with anyone. I walked towards him frustratedly.

"Alright kid. You have me where you want me. Kill me already," I said with open arms. I closed my eyes, waiting for a knife to impale me in the chest or something brutal like that. Unexpectedly, I felt two arms wrap around my waist. We embraced with such intensity. Our arms clasped around each other and pressed our chests together, as warm tears flowed down my cheeks. Neither of us wanted to let go, and so we didn't. He saved me... We parted and he wiped away his tears with his hand. 

"Why are you crying? You're not alone like me," I asked trying to look at his face, but he held his head down. He didn't speak at all. No words came out of his. 

Should I trust this guy? 

He's a complete stranger. 

Honestly, I can't get over this feeling. It is something that it beyond anything else in the world, it's something that words can't clearly explain. It's a feeling that can't be compared to nothing else, it's in reality and imagination. I haven't felt this way since.. Well... I never felt this way. We sat on my bed and sat criss cross apple sauce.

"What is your name stranger?" I asked. He shook his head saying "no". 

He can't speak? 

He's a mute? 

"Is there any other way I can communicate with you?" I asked and he shrugged. I was trying to find his eyes but they never appeared. He pointed left of me and I looked. It was my white dry erase board, which I never knew I owned. But it's a perfect idea. I handed the board to him, followed by a marker.

"Do you want to be friends?" I asked. He immediately wrote his answer.

'Yes'

Alright we're getting somewhere.

\--

After hours of non-stop joking and conversations, I finally knew the basics of this guy. After several years, I finally have a friend to understand to me, accept me.

"Do you ever feel that way?" I asked and he gave me a puzzled look. "You know.. Lonely?"

He searched for the words. 

'Restless. As if you haven't really met yourself yet?'

I nodded. And I think he's appeasing me. I feel stupid of having said it. His words were sentimental and true, and I've revealed a part of myself I shouldn't have. Then he smiled slightly.

'Do you know what I think?' He writes.

"What?" I replied.

'Sometimes, I think you can glimpse it in another,'

I nodded again. Great. Now he knows I'm this loner. "Sometimes, when I'm alone, I wonder if it really counts as being alone, since I am covered in millions of other living organisms." I said, looking at his lips. He started writing on the white board.

'At the end of the day, What will you choose? Will you keep moving on, or be forced to lose? Look inside of yourself. There is always hope. You're not alone anymore.'

He smiled at me and I was blown away but the beauty in his soul. His teeth shone at me like diamonds, and i was completely aw struck by the beauty of his smile.

"You are sweet," I said with a smile replicating his. He's so familiar. Though I can't see his eyes, I feel like I know those lips. That smile.

I checked the time on my phone and it read '12:34 am' "It's getting late. Can we meet up tomorrow?" I asked yawning and stretching. He was probably tired as well.

"I think I am going to go to bed. It was nice meeting you," I said. He smiled and walked with me to my black sheeted bed. I didn't even realized until now that he was tucking me in. 

"Will you be back tomorrow?" I asked groggily. He nodded and kissed my forehead. Never had a few moments deliberation seemed like an eternity as I feel my consciousness ebbing away, and my thoughts, as clear and concise as they were mere moments ago, were coming to an end. My eyes grow heavy and I was asleep. 

\--

The alarm goes off and I roll over to put it on snooze. I roll over on my back and stretch. I love my bed. I go back to sleep. I allow myself three snoozes and then I have to get up. Then I realized next to me was that white board.

'By the way my name is Spooky Jim. See you soon xx'

I'm at peace with myself and where I am. 

I'm content.


	4. Chapter 4

Lately, things have been getting weird. It's not because I just met a new friend, but my entire perspective of everything is changing in ways I can't even put into words. Sometimes, when I walk down the street the clouds talk to me. Like you know how you have green grass, and blue grass? Well the clouds say that it's my fault the colors are in the grass. 

Leaving me in weeks of confusion.

Then I sit up in my room and hide under the covers and talk to myself, or Spooky. He tells me to kill myself and run away because if I don't, outsiders will. 

I get scared at night and hide under the covers as spiders crawl on my walls. If I don't have a covers on, people will rip me in pieces. I always feel like people are watching me...through blinds, or hidden cameras in my room.

I've been living alone for a few years already and I've never experienced this before.

When I go to school, I think everyone is going to hurt me. When people laugh, I know they're talking about me. I swear. When I go up the steps at my house, I feel like somethings gonna pull me down by my feet. I sit alone and I don't like to talk to anyone, except for Spooky. He tells me these things and I believe him. Especially when I sit in my room, all alone in the dark.

I'm paranoid at things I shouldn't be. 

Not only that, every single day of my life, he has been following me. I don't think he's a stalker but I do believe he is some sort of hero. He's just really sweet and nobody treats me this nice. 

Ever. 

Sometimes he scares me and doesn't make any sense. But I also feel like I can't live without him.

"What's wrong with me?" I asked, contemplating about everything. I didn't see his eyes but his expressions showed signs of confusion. He wrote quickly on the white board given to him.

'What do you mean?' He asked. I thought for a moment and looked at him.

"Do you have the key to my house? Or do you just go through walls?" I whispered and he scooted closer to me. Our faces were only inches apart. I feel like he was staring at me in an uncanny way. He wrote on his whiteboard.

'I am your worst nightmare, yet the best thing that has ever happened to you for many years to come. But that's okay. We're going to be okay,' He wrote with a smile on his face. An evil smirk that betrays all innocence. I felt my body start to shake in my hands started to sweat. I haven't felt so petrified in my entire life.

"What do you even mean by that? You sound really creepy right now," I said cautiously and his smile only grew. He placed his hand on top of mine and nuzzled his nose on my neck. He looked at me one last time until writing down his answer.

'I need you to trust me more than you would trust anyone else,' I read and I nodded. For some reason I feel like I have to trust him. There's nobody else who would stay with me this long. Not even my own mother comes around and visits me. I feel like an old woman who is waiting for her adult children to come by and say hello or bring a pecan pie.

I am officially a woman in her middle ages.

"Okay...?" I stared at him and he hugged me. He is so warm and incredibly soft. He can't be real. No one has ever made me feel so safe but terrified at the same time. He's the one I've been needing this entire time.

'You'll thank me later'


End file.
